


Saint's Song

by Abby_Ebon



Series: Bite Sized Bits of Fic [5]
Category: Boondock Saints
Genre: Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boondock Saints, Connor/Murphy, God Save Ireland</p><p>*I would really suggest hearing this song!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saint's Song

When they were but babe's, their mama had sung to them 'God Save Ireland' as a lullaby. When she died, they heard it still, but it seemed a disgrace to her memory to hear it in bars on St. Patty's day. When it was sung there, Murphy would rise and stagger out, and Connor could only shrug and follow. He'd given up on making up excuses, and really – there was no need for one.

Every night of St. Patty's when they tried to earn a living and survive Murphy would kiss him sweetly, and let him have his way so the memories would be dim and faded things.

It was only later, years and years later, while working the farm and land in Ireland that Murphy would sing it with their Da, on a quite night when the shadows were long and the fire flickering, with such longing and yearning in his voice that Connor feared for him. It'd been Connor who'd said that it was better they lived and hid then died Saints or Sinners.

It touched too close to Connor, and his thoughts were dark those days with memories. Connor, later that night, would cry and prey that they wouldn't turn out to be the noble Three upon the gallows tree. Yet the song seemed a taunt – a mirror and haunt in their blood and every act. As a part of them as their family prayer, he knew that if the time came, they'd prove just a self sacrificing as the song had ended.

He couldn't live without Murphy, and Da - he never wanted to loose after having lost him once. Yet he could no more ignore the priest, shot in cold blood, brains blown out and cheeks a ruin and coins upon his eyes – the cry that the Saints had done that terrible thing, then he could have ignored the lullaby his mother had once sung, to sooth him and Murphy to sleep.

He vowed something as they got on a ship going over the sea, they wouldn't be forgotten, they would not forgive, but they would have freedom.


End file.
